Gods Among Men
by The Wunn
Summary: SEQUEL TO HUNGER, SPOILERS. Pursued by Blackwatch's own MERCER, Dana and Alex take the fight to Maryland to finally destroy Blackwatch once and for all. But things take a dangerous turn when another player gets involved. And what other secrets will they find, buried in the depths of Fort Detrick? -Disregards Prototype 2
1. 2 Monsters Walk Into A Bar

**A/N: I don't own Prototype, Activision does. There may be some delays in chapter posting, as I am literally making this up as I go along. It seemed to work for the last one.**

On the Lower East Side of Manhattan Island, a small group of thugs in their early twenties gathered outside a bar. They were all garbed in the exact same outfit- a grey hoodie, white shirt, leather jacket and jeans. One of them, presumably the leader, slid a Freddy Krueger glove onto both of his hands, a crude imitation of a well-known terrorist.

On his signal, the group strode arrogantly into the bar. Pushing away a thin brunette woman, they stood in front of the counter and behind their leader. The young man pointed one of the "claws" close to the bartender's chest, and spoke in a pathetic attempt to sound menacing.

"Open the register, give us the cash. Now, fat-ass." The bartender crossed his arms, smirking. He showed no fear, and remained infuriatingly calm. Enraged, the young man grabbed the bartender's arm and drew him close.

"Don't you know who we are? We helped release that virus," he lied, trying to inspire fear. The older man smirked once more.

"Be that as it may, manhandling my customers is _not _a good idea," he said, assertively. "Take my advice. Turn around, walk away, and it won't come back to bite you in the ass." Infuriated, the younger man pressed one of the knives into the bartender's neck, not far enough to penetrate.

"Didn't you hear me? We worked for Alex fucking Merc-_gyaaah!_" The man looked down, seeing an elongated blade penetrating his stomach. A young woman's voice rang in his ear.

"Wannabe." That was the last thing he remembered before tentacles penetrated his body, dragging him backwards. He felt what seemed like thousands of tiny needle-jabs into his body, before everything faded to black.

Dana Mercer stood in a pool of blood, smiling at the thugs' shocked faces.

"Y'know," she said, in a truly menacing, quiet voice, "if you're gonna imitate someone, you shouldn't pick my brother. He uses people like you for a light snack." At Dana's namedrop, several of them screamed, and all of them made clumsy attempts to escape. Dana made no attempt to follow them.

"And don't look back!" she called after them, before sitting at a barstool. Once the other, much more drunk customers had shrugged it off, the bartender whispered quietly to Dana.

"I could have taken them by myself, you know." Dana shrugged her shoulders.

"True, but gunships and tanks aren't my idea of a peaceful afternoon." After a small chuckle, the barkeep's voice changed. It sounded much younger and more gravelly.

"I suppose that's the truth," he admitted. The man's body turned into a mass of tentacles, reforming themselves. Taller, fitter, leather-clad. When they were finished, a pale young man dressed the same way as the would-be thieves stood in front of her. Vaulting over the bar, Alex Mercer motioned to his sister before walking towards the door. However, he paused when he heard the set of words that would spell instant death to any man, woman or child.

"Hey sexy, you wanna be my little bitch?" Whipping around, Alex saw Dana up against a wall, a pair of hairy arms blocking her from moving. She looked almost nauseated. Pushing the owner away, Dana moved to rejoin Alex. The man wasn't going to give up, however, and grabbed onto her arm. After that, things happened very quickly. She saw a blur of motion behind the man, and his expression was replaced by one of surprise. Blood trickled down around his neck, and his head simply fell backwards onto the floor. The grip slackened, and his body quickly followed his head. Alex pitched the man's head out the window, before consuming his corpse.

"I don't want to know what that guy's problem was." Alex beckoned Dana once again. She hesitated, looking back toward the bar.

"C'mon, Alex, I haven't seen you cut loose in five years!" Alex hesitated, before giving in.

"Well, alright, maybe a couple of drinks..." Several hours later, the two of them were completely and utterly pissed. However, alcohol didn't just affect their minds; it affected their bodies as well. After a while, Dana wasn't just struggling to stay upright, she was struggling to keep herself in a coherent form. Alex had given up altogether, and was now a writhing humanoid mass of tentacles singing "We Are the Champions", horribly out of tune, to the roaring cheers of the inebriated crowd. With one final drink, Dana pointed at Alex and yelled, "Ha!" before collapsing onto the ground and beginning to snore. Alex, after another round, flopped onto one of the tables, joining her in a drunken coma.

**Additional A/N: I think I'm the first person to ever write about a pissed Alex Mercer. And what can I say; the drunken masses are susceptible to Queen karaoke. As I'm moving house, the next update will likely be a while in the making. Take the time to review this chapter.**


	2. The Morning After

**The author didn't care enough to give this A/N a clever title: **I'm sorry about the delay. Sad to say, it will likely be delayed again. :/

THE MORNING AFTER...

A squad of Blackwatch soldiers rappelled down from their gunship outside the nondescript bar. They all looked the exact same, except for one. A young, blonde-haired man stood among them, dressed in a simple blue T-shirt and black tracksuit pants. His superiors had told him this would be a routine job, but he had seen the look on their faces, as well as the way the others had tried to avoid direct contact with him. He knew it was something to do with the shot they had given him the previous week. Only an idiot would believe that it was really a healthcare check. The man's mind was brought back to the present when one of the senior members barked an order at him.

"Wilson! Get your head out of the fucking clouds and stand back!" The commander signalled to his other troops, who simply kicked the door open. The opening hours had not yet arrived, so the bar was almost completely devoid of life. The only occupants were the ones that the drunks had been too afraid to move: a semi-tall man in a leather jacket and jeans, and a young woman in a black hoodie and denim miniskirt. While they seemed harmless, all the men assembled knew that they were easily the most dangerous things on Manhattan Island. What they couldn't fathom was how they had been knocked unconscious.

However, as Wilson moved forward, he noticed the empty bottles of spirit nearby them. When the realisation hit, he couldn't stop himself. He let out a deep laugh, long and loud. The mighty destroyers that were the Mercers, taken down by alcohol? The very idea seemed absurd. He gestured to his team to move forward.

"Look at this. It seems like our targets can't hold their liquor." He aimed his Tox-round equipped rifle at Alex Mercer and laughed again before pulling the trigger.

Something was wrong. Alex's mind, in its booze-addled stupor, may not have realised it, but the individual viral particles that made him up could instinctively sense the danger ahead. Reacting at superhuman speed to the stimulus, Alex's instincts began to stir. After the bullet had left the gun, and before Alex's mind had fully recovered, his body tensed up before flinging itself sideways, out of harm's way. Wilson snarled before swinging his gun around for another attempt, but Alex's mind had recovered incredibly quickly. He pounced, knocking the gun out of Wilson's hand, before pinning him to the ground.

Wilson tried to take in another gasp of air, but Alex's hands applied unending crushing force onto his throat. Blood began to trickle from the corner of his mouth. In one final struggle, Wilson grabbed onto Alex's arm and pushed as hard as he could. Even as he tried, he knew it was futile, that he was about to die. But strangely, as he pushed, he could feel Alex's grip loosening. A look of surprise and fury crossed the virus' face, and Wilson found himself able to breathe once more. Using strength beyond anything he had known before, Wilson pushed Alex back, before applying one final shove and sending him into the opposite wall. He noticed, with some shock, that he had actually shattered the supporting brick.

Even though it was in an alcohol-induced coma, Dana's hive mind connection registered Alex's pain and fury. While her recovery wasn't as lightning-fast as Alex's, she could afford the time, as nobody was focussing on her. Once she recovered, she set to work with lethal efficiency. Moving at high speed, she drew each member of Wilson's squad into herself. It wouldn't do for him to have any backup.

As luck would have it, Wilson glanced toward his squad at the exact moment its final member became Dana's foodstuff. With a cry of equal parts surprise, anguish and fury, Wilson sprinted toward her, faster than he had ever run before. Before she could react, he had tackled her and slammed her up against a wall.

"Die, you fucking bitch!" he screamed at her. Drawing on the same strength he used before, Wilson began to pound her face, tears of sadness and rage blurring his vision. While he did this, a set of navy-blue tentacles began to sprout from his back, ready to drag Dana into his chest. Before they could, however, he felt an irrepressible pulling force on them, dragging him away from her. With one final tug, he was sent sprawling to the ground. He looked up, and saw Alex's boot draw back to slam into his face.

Knowing that a straight fight was out of the question, Wilson decided to fight dirty. Clenching his hand into a fist, he drove it upward, landing a solid blow in Alex's "gentleman's area". It didn't do much damage, but it still had the result of making him recoil for a few seconds. Which was all that Wilson needed. Leaping into a standing position, he tackled Alex to the ground, laying one hand on his throat, and raising the other in preparation for another pummelling.

Pushing back the excruciating pain, Dana stood up, clutching one of the deceased soldiers' rifles. She hoped beyond measure that her plan would work. Aiming the gun at Wilson's torso, she let loose with a spray of rounds. Their effect was almost immediate. Wilson recoiled, coughing and retching, before letting loose a stream of black liquid from his mouth. Unable to cope with the poisonous Bloodtox mixture, Wilson fell to the ground, twitching and breathing erratically. Tentacles flowed down his body, struggling to keep him in a coherent form.

Trying to ignore the pitiful state of the man in front of her, Dana helped Alex to his feet. Using each other as support, the pair walked out the back door, tired, pained and hungover. As the pair made their escape, memories of the squad Dana had killed flashed through her mind.

"_Sir, we've tried to kill the Mercers before, with no success. What makes you think it'll work this time?"  
_"_This time will be different. We'll be grouping you with the successful result of the OLYMPUS Project."  
_"_..."  
_"_Any complaints, soldier?"  
_"_...No, sir."_

**Author's Note Again: **Wilson's been an idea for a while. I think Alex and Dana need someone on equal terms to fight with.


	3. A Long Road Ahead

As Dana and Alex walked down the street, Alex mentally kicked himself over and over. He had known Cross to be a chess-master, always thinking several moves ahead, so why hadn't he foreseen it? He should have known that Cross wouldn't have stored his most important project anywhere near him. Making a decision, he tapped Dana on the arm.

"We have to get out of Manhattan," he stated, matter-of-factly. "You saw what happened in the bar. If we don't leave, that guy's going to come after us, and I don't think he'll be slowed down by any family ties." Dana nodded. She saw the logic there.

"They call him David Wilson," she replied idly. "Apparently, he's semi-famous in Blackwatch's ranks for his determination." Alex looked grim.

"Well he can scour the city all he wants. We need to stop Blackwatch from making any more of us." He gestured in the general direction of one of Manhattan's many bridges.

"It'll be a bit of a trip to get to Maryland, but we can handle it, right?" Dana smiled, somewhat chillingly. She knew exactly where Alex was planning on going.

"Of course. Fort Detrick will never know what hit it."

While they were saying this, Wilson began to stir in the bar. He tried to haul himself up with a nearby table, but the black vomit ruined his grip, and he collapsed once more. His shirt was covered in the stuff, and riddled with bullet holes. Tearing it off, Wilson was surprised to discover that there was no trace left of the bullets' impact with his body. Soon, he was shown another surprising thing. As he watched, tentacles flowed out of his torso. They began to merge and reshape, shifting into a light shade of blue. Before he knew what was happening, his T-shirt was back on his body, like nothing had ever happened.

He may have stopped to wonder at this, but he knew he had other things to worry about. The back door swayed invitingly, and he walked outside. Taking off at a run, he knew that if he acted fast, he could make up ground between them. And now that he could match them in a fight, he had a shrewd idea of where they could be going.

Disguised as a pair of Blackwatch soldiers, Alex and Dana shifted through the plethora of soldiers that guarded the bridge. Using her trained hacking skills, Dana had no problems taking the detectors offline. She knew that it would only be a temporary solution, but it would buy them time. Their carefully constructed plans, however, were blown to all hell by a loud voice behind them.

"That's them! They're trying to escape!" Alex and Dana whipped around and saw Wilson sprinting at high speed, leaving a trail of holes in the concrete behind him. They reacted in the only logical way they could.

"Run!" Alex shouted. "Fucking run!" Shedding their disguises, they took off down the bridge, with Wilson in hot pursuit. They made a good attempt, but Wilson eventually caught up to them and kicked their legs out from under them. The inertia kept them going for several more meters before they slammed into two nearby cars. As they hauled himself to their feet, Wilson shook his head, smirking. The condescending gesture aggravated Alex to no end.

"What the fuck do you want from us, Wilson?" he asked angrily. Wilson started slightly in recognition of his name.

"That's Specialist Wilson to you!" he shouted. "And mainly, I just want to see your body, lying dead on the ground. You're an abomination, Mercer!" Alex growled in rage. In his opinion, it was a severe case of the pot calling the kettle black.

"Do you even know what you are, Wilson?" he inquired. What he might have been was never explained, as at that moment, an airstrike shell hit the bridge and their world was engulfed in flames and pressure. The bridge, its support structure destroyed, teetered for a few seconds before collapsing into the river. Alex had always hated water. For some reason, it caused him actual physical pain whenever he touched it. Arm in arm with Dana, he touched the bottom of the river before rocketing out and heading toward mainland New York. Wilson, not yet fully developed, only managed to get back to the other side of the bridge. He would pursue them when he was able, but for now, he had to wait.

Dana and Alex eventually landed on a street, unnoticed by the people around them. After all, this was New York. Surreptitiously, Alex beckoned Dana closer.

"We're going to have to go incognito here, so we'll take public transport." He saw Dana's shoulder's sag. She had become used to being able to run at insane speeds, and forsaking that for public transportation meant long hours of inactivity. As unobtrusively as possible, she opened up a slit in her body and removed her laptop from its storage place near her stomach. She might as well have had something to do, and reading slash-fiction would pass the time admirably. Conveniently, a bus rolled up beside them at that moment, and after a bit of shifting around, they managed to find a comfortable place to sit. The road ahead would be long and tedious.

SHORTLY AFTERWARD...

Wilson slowly clambered up from the other end of the bridge. He was still sopping wet and in excruciating pain from his previous attempts. Walking down the bridge, he realised that he had no way of finding the Mercers. He cursed under his breath, wishing he had Alex's uncanny range-shifting eyes. As if on cue, Wilson felt an extreme pain behind his eyes. He doubled over, pushing his hands into them, wishing they would stop hurting.

When he opened them again, they had turned simply to red orbs in his head, and the world looked red. He realised that he was glowing like a beacon in this new, strange vision, and realised what had happened. He smiled to himself as he realised that fate had given him a tool to find his quarry, and he planned to take full advantage of it. He sprinted off down the street, looking for any sign of the two shapeshifters.

Wilson may not have realised it, but Alex and Dana were talking about him, speculating on his progress.

"He's one of us," Alex said, thinking. "But he's not fully developed. He's kind of like you were, Dana." She nodded before continuing where he left off.

"Sort of,"she said. "He still doesn't know the full extent of what he is. He still thinks that he's David Wilson. He's imperfect and underdeveloped..." She paused at this, and Alex said what they were both thinking.

"He's basically still an infant. He still views himself as an infected human, instead of pure infection. And while he thinks that, he's still a threat to us. Blackwatch still has their hooks in him, and he's going to go after us until he realises what they're doing." Dana raised her eyebrows. She had caught an implied message in Alex's words.

"You want to turn him, don't you? Let him become another amoral crusader." That was Dana's term for their stance on the world. As long as it's not a threat to them, they would just leave it to go on. Alex nodded.

"Exactly. If we can get him to stop fighting us, to listen, maybe we can convince him of how much of a threat Blackwatch will pose to him once he stops being useful." Dana looked doubtful.

"I dunno. He seems to be in deep with them. I don't know if we can convince him." Alex shrugged.

"Maybe. But we have to try."

**Another Author's Note:** My computer access is over today, so I'll be sinking back into hiatus again.


	4. ARES

**A/N: Heya. It's been a while, eh? Bloody writer's block. Well, to the best of my ability, I'll try not to leave it this late again.**

As Wilson ran, he became aware of a miniscule trail of infection left behind the Mercers. Ordinarily, this would have been invisible, but in his newfound Infected vision, it manifested as a dull glow. He wouldn't have even been able to see it if he wasn't searching, but in his heightened concentration, it provided an easy way to track them.

Due to the fact that a sentient infection travelling at roughly 80 mph is faster than a bus, Wilson was able to make up ground on the Mercers fairly quickly. As he approached the town's outskirts, the two bastions of viral death, shining like beacons through the bus's steel, came into his field of view. As he began to close the gap, the thought that he wasn't exactly inconspicuous came into his mind. Swinging onto a nearby building, he ran to its roof before accelerating and quickly overtaking the sluggish vehicle. An idea on how he could go undetected began to form in his head.

A few miles down the road, he came to a stop. An old lady stood at the bus stop in front of him. Slowly, Wilson began to advance on her, wondering how he should proceed.

"_Do I need to concentrate, or does it just...Dammit, how do they do it?" _He stood there for several seconds, pondering, before a voice rang out from somewhere.

"_Dave." _The voice took Wilson by surprise. It seemed to come from everywhere, and at the same time, nowhere. He looked around for its source, but then noticed that the lady hadn't reacted. Before he could say anything, the voice rang out again.

"_Dave." _This time, Wilson realised where the voice was coming from. It was inside his head. Experimentally, he tried thinking a response.

"_Can you hear me?" _he thought. In response, the voice rang out once more.

"_Yes, Dave, I can. And I know you can hear me." _Emboldened by the response, Wilson decided to get a few answers.

"_How do you know my name?" _he thought. The voice paused for a split second, then rang out once more.

"_That's not important," _it said. Sensing that this wouldn't get him anywhere, Wilson decided to try a different tack.

"_Who are you, then?"_ he asked._ "And why are you in my head?" _The voice paused for a few seconds before replying.

"_You can call me ARES. The others do. And our goals are the same for the moment: taking down ZEUS and ERIS."_ Wilson raised one eyebrow.

"_What is this, Christmas? What's your angle?" _ARES wasted no time replying.

"_No tricks. No angle. Our goals are the same, and the only way you can realise them is with my help." _Wilson shrugged.

"_Fair enough, then. Where do you want me to start?" _ARES' voice rang out in his head.

"_Consume that old lady in front of you," _it said._ "Simple enough."_ Wilson shook his head.

"_That's the issue," _he thought._ "I have no idea how to do it." _Before he could say anything else, ARES forestalled him.

"_I can keep control over your more complex powers" _he said._ "Just kill her, relax, and I'll take care of the rest." _Remaining silent, Wilson walked toward her before taking her in a full-nelson and snapping her neck like a twig. At the sight of her limp body falling forward, some primal instinct took Wilson over. He leaned forward, catching the falling lady in his arms before landing on his knees.. As soon as she made contact, tendrils spewed forward from his chest and arms, tearing into her flesh, breaking her body down before his eyes. Being a Blackwatch operative, this sight didn't even make him flinch; in fact, the only emotion it inspired was a raw, ravenous hunger, a primal need for sustenance. As the bloody remains of her body drew into his chest, ARES hissed with satisfaction. As always, her memories began to surface, but they were vague, blurry. ARES' voice superimposed itself on top of them.

"_We don't need her interrupting you," _he said. Wilson was silent for a while.

"_Tell me," _ARES said. _"When you tore her apart, did you feel any remorse?" _Wilson, on his knees in a pool of blood, shook his head. He could almost visualise ARES smiling.

"_Good," _he said. _"Now tell me, did it feel good, feeling her body sustain yours?" _Wilson nodded, a mad grin of realisation spreading on his face.

"_Yes..." _he hissed, both mentally and physically. It hadn't just felt good. It was like a straight shot of amphetamine directly to his brain. ARES' voice echoed in his head once more.

"_Would you like to do it again?" _he asked. Wilson nodded, grinning evilly.

"_Good!" _ARES shouted eagerly. "_Then prove it, Dave!" _Wilson needed no further encouragement. He leapt to his feet, before planting his fist into the face of the nearest person to him. The man flew back under the punch's power, before being impaled by extending tentacles and dragged back into Wilson's waiting chest. Wilson heard a maniacal laugh emanate through his head. Compulsively, spurred on by the new feeling of elation, he began to laugh himself, a roaring noise that echoed throughout the streets. This maniacal sound was soon punctured as the sound of a rumbling bus came into his consciousness.

"Oh shit!" he shouted. Before he could do anything, however, his body compulsively shifted into that of the old lady he had recently consumed.

"Thanks, ARES," he breathed, before the bus came to a stop in front of him. He walked on, calmly paying his fare, before scanning the bus' passengers. Alex's fashion statement stuck out like a sore thumb, and he quickly spotted the brooding sociopath. Quietly, he sat down opposite him, looking as nonchalant as possible, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

That night, the opportunity arose. As they neared the border to New Jersey, the bus now devoid of passengers, the driver prepared to switch places. Alex sat hunched forward, quietly brooding and distracted from the world around him. Dana kept her head rested on the seat in front of her, quietly snoring. Quietly, Wilson leaned forward. He drew his fist back, ready to release a punch that would tear Alex's jaw from its fastening. Tentacles encircled the arm in anticipation of the punch. After a sufficient charge time, he let the punch fly on a direct course to Alex's face.

Things seemed to move in slow motion from there. As the fist moved on its deadly course, Alex turned, a look of surprise on his face. But then, just before the fist made contact, a set of tentacles whipped into view, slamming the fist to one side and driving it into the wall. Wilson looked up the length of the tentacles to see Dana's "sleeping" face break out into a smile. One open eye peeked out from her fringe.

"Wannabe," she said softly. Alex stood up and gestured to the petrified bus driver. The man took heed and immediately sprinted off, the case of money dangling from his hand. Alex then pushed his hood back, revealing a short crop of brown hair.

"Wilson," he said bluntly to the old lady opposite him.

"Mercer," she grunted in reply, before shifting into Wilson's form once again. Alex crossed his arms.

"What are you really trying to get here, Wilson?" he asked. "Is it satisfaction? Thrill of the hunt?" Wilson shook his head.

"I didn't kill you the first time," he snarled. "I'm looking to rectify that." Alex shrugged.

"You know, there's no real reason for us to be fighting. You're more like us than you think." Wilson growled at this.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I have to act like it," he spat, his voice full of malice. "I'm not an unrepentant mass-murderer, Mercer." Alex shook his head.

"Maybe not you personally, but what about the people you work for? Randall, Cross, Taggart...I've seen everything they've done. If you call them anything except what you just called me, you're just as naive as you are short-sighted." At this, Wilson snapped. Roaring, he tore Dana's tentacles from his arm before charging at Alex. His hands twisted, reforming into serrated claws as he charged. Caught off-guard, Alex was impaled and driven through the bus wall. After a few feet, he regained his senses, driving his fist into Wilson's face. He stumbled, giving Alex time to tear the claws from his body, leaving large gashes in his chest. Hurling Wilson away, Alex looked at the black biomass dripping from the wound, even as it knitted itself back together.

"If a fight's that important to you, then I'll oblige!" he shouted, reforming his own arm into a giant blade and charging at him. Wilson braced himself, flexing his new saw-like claws.

"Bring it on, fucker!"


	5. Onward And Upward

**A/N: Hey. The internet broke. Sorry. -.-'**

Holding the blade high, Alex leapt into the air. A red streak of excess biomass trailed from the blade's tip as he somersaulted through the air, his body flying toward Wilson at a breakneck pace. Wilson, for his part, lifted his claws in a reflexive attempt to ward off the blow.

Two thoughts entered Wilson's mind as the attack hit: either Alex was an incredibly powerful swordsman, or a house had just fallen on his saws. The concrete crumbled into dust around Wilson's feet as the force of the attack transferred itself through his body, but he remained relatively unscathed. At least, until Alex brought his free fist back and let fly with an uppercut to the point of Wilson's chin.

Wilson and Alex flew into the air, the latter going in a slow 360-degree spin-essentially a Shoryuken given form. Using the momentum given by the blow, Alex shifted around and released a powerful kick into Wilson's gut. His body seemed to curl around Alex's foot as he flew backwards, directly towards the bus.

With lightning reflexes, surpassing even Alex's, Dana immediately transformed her arm into the katana, bringing it up to meet the flying body. Wilson had no chance to evade it as the katana slipped through his ribs, into his left lung, and out the other side.

A thick stream of black liquid poured from his mouth and down the length of Dana's katana.

"I..just got my ass…handed to me…didn't I?" he breathed in her ear. Morphing her other arm into another katana, she smiled at him.

"Pretty much," she said, before bringing the second katana down into his shoulder. Pushing them downwards, she sliced through his flesh like butter, eventually leaving his body in two rough halves. Taking a leg in each hand, she immediately threw them both to opposite ends of the bus.

A loud thud nearby informed her that Alex had arrived. He stepped out of the shadows, nodding slowly as he saw what was left of Wilson.

"It won't stop him," he said. It wasn't an opinion, simply a statement of fact. Dana shrugged her shoulders.

"Probably not," she said. "It'll buy us some time, though, if we don't go on the bus."

"Fuck the bus," Alex replied. "We can be through Jersey and into Maryland in a few hours." Dana nodded slowly.

"I hate public transportation anyway," she said with a smile. She stepped out of the bus's wreckage, looking at the full moon high above their heads. "Onward and upward, eh?" Alex nodded, and the pair sped off across the rooftops and into the night.

Several hours later, the half of Wilson that still contained his head began to stir.

"_Wow, you suck at this," _ARES said. _"I mean, seriously, all of five seconds? Wow."_

"Shut up," Wilson replied through gritted teeth.

_"No, it's my fault," _ARES sighed. _"You're only about a week old. I overestimated what you could do." _Wilson wasn't sure whether to take it as an insult or not.

"You mean the virus is about a week old, right?" he said, digressing.

_"Whatever, it's not important. Something that actually matters, though, is getting you fighting fit before they get to Detrick."_ Wilson glanced down at his body-or at least, what remained of it.

"How exactly do you plan on doing that?" he said, seriously doubting his ability to regenerate.

_"That's the other part where consuming people comes in handy," _ARES replied._ "Try shaping your arm into a sort of…whip, or something."_ Wilson concentrated, and, after a few attempts, his arm mutated into something that looked remarkably like Alex's Whipfist.

_"Drawing inspiration," _ARES noted. _"Good move. Now anyway, try to grab somebody with it. There should be at least one person around."_ Wilson used a seat and his teeth to raise himself up, then looked around the general area.

A lone man wandered aimlessly around the general area. He was drunk, having spent most of the evening at the local bar. This being New York, he barely noticed the wrecked bus on the other side of the street, as he came to rest on a nearby lamp-post.

At least, until a long tentacle flew out of it and wrapped itself around his neck. He tried to struggle, in vain, against its crushing force on his windpipe. Soon, however, he fell to the ground, his vision slowly turning black as he slid towards the bus, and Wilson's waiting tendrils.

Several seconds later, Wilson staggered out of the bus, his body regenerated. While on the outside, he seemed fine, the voracious hunger raged within him, inversely proportionate to his injuries. Unable to stand it, he groaned, clasping his gut in one hand.

"I…I can't…"he whispered. "Starving…what is this?"

_"It's the Hunger," _ARES replied. _"It's like…well, a bit like a health bar, actually."_

"Explain?" Wilson said, his stomach growling like a lion.

_"Well, whenever you get injured, you expend biomass to heal yourself," _ARES said._ "The Hunger gets more and more severe the less you have on standby. When it gets too high, you go into a temporary coma while your body recuperates, like what happened earlier."_

"And how do you get rid of it?" Wilson breathed.

_"It never goes away," _ARES said. _"It's always there, in the back of your mind. You just have to try and suppress it for as long as you can. Or you can just eat a metric fuckton of people, I don't really care either way." _Wilson grinned evilly.

"I was hoping you would say that," he said breathlessly, before immediately running off down the street in search of prey. "It's like Mom always said: you've got to eat to keep your strength up…"

_"Can't argue with that," _ARES hissed. Wilson could almost visualise him grinning. Noticing a bar nearby, Wilson smashed through its wall, revealing a group of stunned patrons. Almost involuntarily, long tentacles spewed forth from Wilson's body, ensnaring everyone in the room. Laughing maniacally, he dragged them all back, smaller tentacles tearing their bodies apart and giving Wilson the rush of a narcotic shot straight through his system. The force of it actually made him fall back, landing in the pool of blood that now surrounded him. His chest still shuddered with laughter.

"Now…" he hissed, grinning insanely. "Onward to Fort Detrick."


	6. Breaking In

**A/N: Okay, I would say something funny about how this isn't dead, but at this point, it's fair to say I'm digging up a grave here. Writer's block and sheer procrastination FTW!**

* * *

Several minutes later, Wilson managed to overcome his mad fit of laughter long enough to stand up.

_"Finally," _ARES said exhaustedly. _"Could you please exercise some restraint on the laughing in the future?"_

"Whatever," Wilson replied, before stepping outside. Bracing his legs, he leapt high into the air before looking around. With the raised perspective, he soon ascertained Fort Detrick's general bearing, and after landing, immediately sprinted toward it.

As he ran, he immediately began to go over the "fight" with Alex in his head. After a few minutes, he came to a decision.

"ARES," he said. "I'm going to need your help here." ARES' curiosity was piqued.

_"How so?" _he asked. Wilson paused for a second, before continuing.

"I'm no match for the Mercers in a straight fight," he said. "We both know that. So I think we should find a way to even the odds a little. Can you do that?" ARES thought it over for a few seconds.

_"I may have an idea,"_ he said, thinking. _"It's a bit of a longshot, but it could work. Give me a while and I'll have something ready."_ Wilson smiled.

"Perfect," he said simply, before falling back into a silent run once more.

A WHILE LATER…

Alex and Dana had not stopped running at any point during the past hours, and the strain was beginning to show. Neither of them had consumed anyone during that time, and the biomass shed through the sprinting had caused their long-controlled Hunger to reawaken. Beads of sweat ran down Dana's face as she struggled with the urge to tear apart the first person she saw.

"Alex!" she called out. He had been running ahead for the majority of the time, preventing her from seeing his face. Gradually, he began to slow down, eventually running parallel to her.

"What?" he asked, still looking ahead. One wrong step and he would fly face-first through somebody's house.

"I need a break," Dana replied, her stomach beginning to growl. Alex nodded assent. She couldn't tell, but he was beginning to feel the same way.

Alex stuck his foot out in front of himself, feeling the concrete crumble as he slowly came to a stop. Dana, after a few metres, did the same. Almost reflexively, he grabbed two random people from the sidewalk and smashed their heads together, reducing them to a bone-strewn paste. Dana steeped forward, her chest efficiently splitting open to break down the waiting body.

They had only recently left New Jersey, putting a sizeable gap between themselves and Wilson, which they knew he would eventually bridge. Fort Detrick lay a little while to the southwest, and they had no doubt that it would be on full alert.

"How exactly do you propose we get in?" Dana asked, stretching her muscles. Alex chewed his lower lip as he thought it over. He hadn't really considered the details of the plan, what with Wilson constantly bearing down on them, and it was only when he stopped to think about it that the true, daunting issue came to the surface. However, as he mulled it over, an idea begun to surface. A crazy, complete longshot of an idea, but an idea nonetheless.

"Dana," he said, still thinking. "What do you think Blackwatch's response time to a two-man Blacklight outbreak would be?" Dana's mind raced for a few seconds, then she smiled.

"About ten, fifteen minutes," she said happily. "I think I see where you're going with this."

It took about three minutes for them to learn the street layout around Fort Detrick. It took substantially less than that for them to put their plan into action. Alex and Dana stood back to back, surveying the scene around them.

"Ready?" Alex asked, a little nervously. The margin for error on this plan was tiny, and he knew it.

"Ready," his sister replied. Without further ado, tentacles shifted across their bodies, weaving and hardening into a black, rocklike shell. Protective. Destructive.

And very, very distinctive.

Hundreds of people began to scream. It was as if their worst nightmare had come true: the horrors of Manhattan Island, now unleashed on their very doorstep. In sync with each other, they began to sprint, an amorphous mob, with no clear purpose or function, derived from one common thought: Run.

Alex and Dana knew that this was exactly what they needed. Immediately, they set to work, gruesomely slaughtering the people around them with none of their usual brutal efficiency. And for good reason; this wasn't another one of their usual targets, to be closely monitored and dispatched cleanly and efficiently.

This was a publicity stunt, purely engineered to draw attention to them. And they were truly performance artists at heart. Alex leapt into the air and stomped one of the fleeing civilians into the ground, grinding his face into the concrete as they skidded along the pavement. Dana grabbed one around the ankle and began using him as a living bludgeon, smashing his body into the people around her.

It came as no surprise whatsoever, then, that the radios that they stored in their bodies soon became abuzz with life.

"HQ, this is beyond red alert or any fucking alert we've ever used! …How bad? HOW FUCKING BAD, SIR? THIS IS ONE STEP DOWN FROM THE MOTHERFUCKING APOCALYPSE! THE MERCERS ARE FUCKING HERE!"

Within roughly the timeframe that Dana had predicted, a scene that would be well-served by the Ride of the Valkyries occurred: Choppers and tanks in their hundreds, all swarming towards them in a black mass that surged forth from Fort Detrick like a wave of devastation. Alex and Dana ceased their parade of slaughter to look up at this massively-advancing wave. Mentally, they both smiled; Phase 1 had gone off without a hitch.

As the strike force advanced on them, they willed themselves to keep up the slaughter, to pretend that they were just doing it for fun. As soon as the tanks begun to fire, however, they both knew it was time for Phase 2. Looking up at each other, they both nodded before sprinting out onto the street. Before Blackwatch could do a single thing to react, they had slipped into a nearby manhole and into the underground.

As soon as they went under, the radios buzzed with a hundred voices. "What the fuck? Where did they go?" "What the fuck are they doing?" "Get out, get out, we need to get after them!"

Alex, for his part, simply smiled. Regaining his sense of direction, he motioned to Dana before smashing holes in the concrete in a straight line toward the base. As they began to blaze the improvised trail, Blackwatch troopers began to funnel their way through the manhole and down below. What they failed to realise, however, was that Dana was still unoccupied.

While Alex continued to smash through the concrete walls, Dana simply dashed up to them and proceeded to cave their skulls in with a series of blows from her hardened fist. Looking up at the waves of troopers about to pour in, she simply grabbed the ladder and twisted it into a steel barrier across the hole. Morphing her face back to normal, she gave them a small wink before running to rejoin Alex.

It took about three minutes for them to smash through the Frederick underground and reach the base. It took even less time to find a suitable disguise for both of them, once they hit the surface. Under the mask that he now wore, Alex grinned. It would take quite some time before Blackwatch could regroup and reform a solid defense, and he and Dana would be long-gone by that point. His plan had gone off without a hitch.

Or at least, that's what he thought, until he saw a rapidly-approaching speck gliding through the air.

"Oh, you have got to be SHITTING me…" Alex said, as the shape grew larger and larger before smashing into the ground in front of him. A familiar face emerged from the cloud of dust, looking a little dazed. He scanned the area for a second before his eyes fell on Alex and Dana's disguised forms. As he looked at them, his mouth cracked into a knowing smile.

"Hey there, Mercers," he said, slowly advancing on them. "It seems I'm on the homefront this time."

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, sorry if it doesn't make up for the wait. Review if you like. **

**Also, to Zhuullgmail, a reviewer of the prequel, thank you for your observations, now kindly remove your head from your ass. I have played Prototype, have acquired all the nodes on the WOI, and took the time out to watch them all. So I know exactly what I'm doing here. Alex may have the abilities of a Lovecraftian horror, but when it comes to personality and details about his abilities, it's a blank slate. Although, the "emo vampire" bit actually made me laugh. Congratulations on your horrible misinterpretation of my version of Alex, you can now reinsert your head. I'm sure you've found somewhere nice and cozy near your pancreas for it.**


	7. A Few Improvements

Dana folded her arms, glaring at Wilson. Her soldier disguise changed colour and split apart into a mass of tentacles, then reformed into her usual shape.

"How exactly did you manage to catch up to us?" she asked. She and Alex had left him several hours in the dust and hadn't stopped moving since. Wilson shook his head condescendingly.

"Didn't our little encounter on that bridge teach you anything?" he said, his wry smile turning more sinister by the second. "I can run faster than you. By the time you were in Frederick, ten minutes was all I needed." Before he could say any more, Alex cut across him.

"Well the offer still stands," he said, attempting another round of diplomacy. "Either you back down, or we keep fighting. And you saw how that ended last time." Wilson glared at them. The humiliation was still fresh in his mind.

"This is different," he snapped. "I've made a couple of improvements since then." Alex and Dana wordlessly began to reform their arms into their weapons of choice.

"_ARES, this had better fucking work,"_ Wilson thought, as his arms turned into the serrated claws he had used previously. A several-second long standoff ensued, then Wilson roared and charged towards them, brandishing his claws like a madman.

As Wilson charged, Alex raised his blade to block the impending strike. It worked; he felt Wilson's claws rake across its surface harmlessly. But as he went for a return strike, he found that Wilson was no longer standing in front of him, but rather stood several meters away, watching anxiously. However, as he watched, Wilson's face began to split into a psychotic smirk. And that was when Alex realised that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. He heard Dana let out a small gasp next to him.

"Alex…your arm…" she said, pointing. Alex quickly flipped the blade around to the side Wilson had struck. What he saw was something that brought back some horrible memories.

The three lines where Wilson had struck had swollen into long black pustules, churning and pulsating as they grew larger and larger. His eyes darted back up to Wilson, whose arms had already begun to reform.

"Time for Act 2," he said. "You're gonna love it, it's a real doozy." As he said it, tentacles lashed out from his left hand at lightning speed and latched onto the pustules, drawing biomass from its host and transferring it to Wilson.

Alex quickly realised exactly what was happening and grabbed onto the tentacles. However, as soon as he pulled on them, more sprouted out and overtook his other hand. Alex was powerless to break out as the tentacles wrapped further around his arms and crept up to his shoulders. Wilson's eyes rolled back in pleasure.

"My fucking god, this is AMAZING," he said breathlessly. "I mean, eating normal people is good, but THIS…It's a thousand times better, seriously." Alex twisted his head towards Wilson.

"Are you fucking insane, Wilson?" he shouted angrily. "What the fuck is this?" Wilson merely laughed.

"You of all people should know, Mercer," he said. "Quite simply, I'm-AAAAAGH!" Wilson looked down to see the tip of Dana's katana extending through his gut.

"Never take your eyes off any of your combatants," he heard her say, breathing into his ear. He simply smiled and grabbed her blade, sending tentacles down its length and up her arm.

"Touché," he said, as his tentacles begun to overtake her torso. Shifting his gut into a tentacled mass, he removed the blade from his body, then stepped aside to a spot where he could easily observe what was happening.

"As I was saying earlier, I think I've gotten the drop on you quite nicely," he said, smirking. "I can't match up to you in a straight fight, so I'm doing what you always do to get stronger: eating people alive. And I figured, why should I just do that, when I can also actively remove some of yours!" Alex's eyes widened slightly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he said, though he already knew what he hoped beyond hopes wasn't the answer. Wilson laughed before confirming it.

"Can't you feel it, Mercer?" he asked, growing increasingly more maniacal with each word. "All the dying screams of the people you killed? Can you feel them rushing out of you? Well I can tell you something, Mercer; it's all going to me. The memories, the biomass, everything. And it feels…fucking…PHENOMENAL!" With that, he collapsed to his knees, his head hanging toward the ground. Slowly, his shoulders began to shake. "Ha…haha…" At that point, something in David Wilson's mind snapped clean in half. He through back his head, eyes bulging, and screamed out to the heavens.

"AAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAAHA!" His laugh continued for much longer than that, but that was all Alex heard before the Hunger took over once more and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

This did not go unnoticed by Dana. As soon as he went down, she began to struggle, trying desperately to tear the tentacles away.

"ALEX!" she shouted in anguish. She turned to Wilson, her eyes filled with hatred.

"I'll kill you!" she shouted, tears brought on by helplessness welling up in her eyes. "Do you understand? I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" As she struggled, though, tentacles began to creep up her throat, digging into her neck along the way, draining her of strength. She could barely move her mouth by the time they lashed across it, sealing it shut. She could feel the world slowly fade to black, even as she fought to keep her eyes open. The last thing she saw before blacking out completely was Wilson, still laughing as crazily as ever.

By the time Wilson managed to overcome his laughing fit, he was aware of the fact that a large crowd of Blackwatch troopers had grown around him. He did his best to suppress his mad glee, to remain presentable.

"Come to see the show, have you?" he asked, smiling at his colleagues. One of them, a Supersoldier, nodded at him.

"Yes, we have," he said, his voice muffled through the gasmask. "Although it seems that show's about to reach its conclusion." Wilson's grin widened.

"Yes, it is," he said, turning back towards his victims. "Just let me finish up here." Unseen by Wilson, the Supersoldier gave a quick hand signal to the crowd that now surrounded him.

All of their weapons were outfitted with red magazines. And the hand signal was to open fire.

Wilson screamed as thousands of Bloodtox-infused rounds penetrated his body. His tentacles, on instinct, withdrew from the Mercers and transformed back into his normal arms. Panicking, and with his vision beginning to cloud, he dashed out of the crowd, knocking over hundreds of soldiers on the way.

"Go, go, go!" the Supersoldier shouted. "Don't let the bastard get away!" In step, all of the soldiers sprinted after Wilson, firing in his general direction. Wilson, for his part, was trying desperately not to black out, as the Bloodtox began to take effect on him. Every other step, he stumbled slightly, and black liquid seeped out of the holes in his chest. After a while, he managed to reach the Blackwatch command structure. Bracing himself, he leapt into the air and smashed through a window on a high-up floor, effortlessly disguising as one of the countless soldiers Alex had consumed. Out of sight of the others, he quietly begun thinking to himself.

"_ARES, this shit's gone to hell," _he thought quickly._ "What the fuck do I do?"_ ARES' voice boomed out reassuringly.

"_Don't worry, Dave," _he said quietly. _"They might have betrayed you, but you've still got me." _Wilson nodded at this.

"_You're right,"_ he thought firmly. _"Fuck everyone else. Now, where to from here?" _ARES' voice came much quicker this time, and reaffirmed what Wilson himself was thinking.

"_Visit the Director. We need to get some answers."_ Wilson licked his lips a little.

"I couldn't agree more," he said aloud. "Tasty, tasty answers."

At the foot of the building, the soldiers looked up at the hole Wilson had made.

"Dammit," one said. "We'll never be able to get him now." The Supersoldier stilled him with a wave of his hand.

"He'll pop up somewhere, I'm sure of it," he said, thinking. "Now, we need to make sure we get the others." As the soldiers went back to Wilson's landing crater, they were greeted by an unpleasant surprise.

Alex and Dana were gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: And here we have more proof that Wilson is completely losing it. Sorry about this, but you shouldn't expect this kind of regularity from now on. If it happens, good, if not, bad luck. I'll never truly stop writing it though; you can be sure of that.**


	8. The Beginning Of The End

**Author's Note: Welcome to the weather forecast. Today's weather, excessive procrastination, with a chance of...Oh, screw it, I'll get back to it later.**

"Shit. Shit! Get going, we need to find them!"

Dana sat next to a wall on the darkened side of one of Fort Detrick's buildings, panting heavily. Her brother lay comatose in a dumpster nearby, slowly recovering from Wilson's vampiric attack.

She had no idea what was going on. One moment it had looked like she was about to die, then all of a sudden Blackwatch started attacking him. For a moment, she had thought that they were helping her, a thought that she had brushed aside almost immediately. Helping was not a word that existed in Blackwatch's vocabulary. "Containment", "Purge", and "Blacklight" took its place. Judging by what she had heard them saying, it seemed to be an accurate assessment.

She didn't know where Wilson had gone, nor, for the time being, did she care. Her only objective for the moment was keeping herself and Alex alive. Everything else was priority two.

Of course, that wouldn't stop her from flaying the bastard alive when she got the chance. Diplomacy had failed, even if Alex couldn't see it. He had stopped caring why he was trying to kill them, with any trace of logic or reason lost in his addiction to the slaughter that dogged his footsteps.

But there was one question that plagued her: how did he get so powerful in such a short time? With Alex's aid, she had managed to get up to his level within roughly a week, though there were a few family issues in between. But Wilson had mastered his abilities in just a few days, with no apparent help.

Dana racked her brains over and over, but could only come up with two solutions: Either he was simply fantastic at everything, having such complete natural talent that he didn't need to practice at all (an outcome she found highly doubtful), or he had some kind of aide that hadn't made themselves known.

As she thought about this, though, she began to feel uneasy. If Wilson's aide had encouraged the wanton slaughter and insanity that now plagued the man, where would they stop? Would they only be content when the entire world burned to the ground?

MEANWHILE…

As Wilson began to head in the direction of the Director's office, his vision began to cloud once more. He barely had time to react before his stomach clenched, sending a thick stream of black vomit pouring out onto the floor.

"_Dammit,"_ he thought. _"Looks like the Bloodtox is still going through me…" _With the tone ARES gave him next, he could almost swear the voice was laughing at him.

"_Yes, well, that's what happens when you get poisoned,"_ he said, a little condescendingly. _"Now, chop-chop, we have some so-called 'tasty, tasty answers' to get."_ Wilson nodded wordlessly before walking towards the large, gaping hole made by his entrance. He grunted a little as he gripped onto the wall, struggling to keep his body working properly. Slowly, he climbed up the wall, careful not to attract attention to himself.

It took a little while for him to reach the upper floors of the building. Once he had, however, he began to hammer on the window, easily shattering it and landing inside. Slowly, he looked around at his surroundings.

The building was deserted, of course. All of the soldiers had been called away to deal with the Mercers, and it would take a while for them all to get back in order. He smirked a little as he realised that this would be all the better for him. Less people meant fewer guards, and he needed all the edge he could get.

Slowly, he walked up a nearby stairwell, the anticipation grinding at him like a millstone. It seemed like forever until he eventually reached the ornate mahogany door that marked the office of the Director. Wilson went to put his hand on the knob, then stopped himself.

"Nah, not dramatic enough," he said quietly. He then proceeded to dig his hands into the wood and rip the door from its hinges. Tossing it aside like paper, he stepped into the room. A desk sat at the other end of the room, with a tall-backed leather chair facing the window behind it.

"Mr. Wilson…" the figure in the chair said quietly. He then turned the chair around and crossed his fingers together. "Or would you prefer David?" Wilson walked slowly towards him.

"Don't play mind-games with me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to know why your men fired on me. I want to know what prompted it, I want to know where the order came from, and I want to know what you were trying to achieve." The man in the chair chuckled.

"I've already made my peace, Wilson," he said wearily. "I know you'll learn it once you consume me, and I know you plan on doing it anyway." He stood up from the chair and walked around the desk, directly in front of Wilson.

"We'll be here all day if we go the long way. Make it quick." With that, he leant his head down and closed his eyes. Wilson sighed.

"I respect a man who can face the inevitable with dignity," he said, morphing one of his fingers into an elongated claw. "Goodbye, old man." With that, he slashed the blade across the Director's neck, severing the connection between his head and body. As the pieces tumbled forward, tentacles extended out of Wilson's back and dragged the man into his chest. As much as ever, the euphoric feeling began to wash over Wilson. This time, however, he was actually paying attention. But something was wrong. The man's memories were distorted, clouded over. It was almost as if something was blocking out portions of it.

"…_is dangerous…his sanity …"  
"Request permission to neutralise…"  
"Permission granted…is too dangerous…"  
"…Problems with OLYMPUS…Blacklight sample…didn't want to die…"  
"…getting worse. We need to stop him now. ARES is—"_

It was at that moment that a familiar voice boomed out in Wilson's mind.

"_Now, now, Dave, there's no need to pry into everything in his head," _ARES said quickly. Wilson was suspicious.

"_That last memory mentioned you,"_ Wilson thought. _"Where do you come into this?"_ ARES' voice suddenly grew dark.

"_Dave," _he growled. _"Listen to me: It's not important. You got your answers, now let's go get some revenge."_ Wilson nodded. Suspicious as he was, ARES was right. Blackwatch had wronged him, and it was time for payback. And it wasn't going to be small, either. Slowly, a grin grew on his face as he came up with an idea.

"ARES," he said, almost hissing with pleasure. "This is gonna be big. Bigger than what Mercer did at Penn Station." In his excitement, Wilson's voice began to rise. Grabbing the keycard from the Director's locked desk, he turned and strode toward the door, grinning insanely once again.

"They think they can go against me? ME? Well I'm not going quietly. I'm not just confining my revenge here. It'll be global. Do you hear me, ARES?" Wilson stepped into an elevator just outside the door, with a red hazard light above it and a shining chrome doors. Punching a number in, Wilson swiped the card. As the doors began to shut, Wilson threw back his head and laughed, long and loud.

"I'M BURNING THIS ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD!"

About a minute later, a set of chilling words emanated through the loudspeakers around the base.

"Code Black. Code Black. Operation Armageddon has begun. PARIAH has been released. Repeat, PARIAH has been released."

**Author's Note: Seriously, sorry about the delays. I'd like to say I'll do more of it, but really, there'll probably be another big gap. Unless I actually do it. Which would be awesome.**

**Also, with a chance of laziness.**


	9. PARIAH Released

**Author's Note: As of yesterday, it's been two years since I last updated this. Two. Whole. Years. You can attribute this to the worst case of writer's block I have ever seen in my entire life. A lot has changed in my life, and I've been thinking about my works ever since then. I said, a long time ago, that I would never truly stop writing this. You can mark my words: I meant it. I don't care how long it takes, I will see the end of this story put to paper or die trying.**

**Now, because of the two year gap, I'm going to assume that a lot of you are new readers. I began this story long before Prototype 2 came out, and as such, this story completely disregards that game's plot. This is also, to a degree, due to the way that the game turns Alex into a cardboard cut-out villain, completely in the face of what he was. In addition, several years of schooling has a marked effect on one's writing skills, so I hope that you see an improvement in the story from here on out.**

**Also, terrible as it may have been, this story is a sequel to one of my other stories, Hunger. Bear in mind, as that story was written at a rate of one chapter per day (hilarious in hindsight, I know), the quality tends to be kind of shit.** **The story can be found here, if you haven't seen it yet**: s/6726188/1/Hunger

Alex's eyelids began to twitch as he slowly regained consciousness. He immediately tensed up, the events occurring in his final waking moments not lost upon his confused mind. He remembered Wilson laughing, Dana shouting something he couldn't quite make out, then his vision fading to blackness.

As his mind drifted to this point, he begun to realise that the darkness had not faded, even as he awoke. Had he gone blind? What other senses had Wilson's strange new powers sapped from him? With the thought of Wilson, his thoughts began to darken. The man was clearly insane, that much was obvious. He knew that killing him was, frankly, an impossibility, empirically proven by his own implacable nature. The only real option was diplomacy-an idea that he wished he didn't have to entertain.

Then his mind came crashing back to the present.

He couldn't see. That much was obvious. But-and his discoveries slowly began to alarm him-he found that he couldn't hear, either. Everything sounded muffled, as though there was a brick wall between him and the outside world. And as he tried to flex his arms, he found resistance at all sides. He couldn't move freely. And yet, something was forcing him to, pushing his limbs in an unknown direction.

Just as he was on the verge of panicking, he heard a familiar, feminine voice call out softly to him.

"Good, you're finally awake," Dana whispered. Her voice sounded both relieved and exhausted. Alex blinked a few times in confusion.

"Dana?" He couldn't quite trace her location from the voice, but she sounded very close. Almost on top of him, in fact.

"Shut up!" she whispered urgently. "We're not exactly in the best place for conversation. The less chance we have of being heard, the better." Alex was a little startled by her sudden order, but he complied nonetheless.

"Where exactly are you, anyway?" he asked, now having lowered his voice to a similar level as hers. She paused for a few moments, then gave him an answer he was not expecting.

"You're wearing me. Now shut up and let me steer you somewhere safe." Alex would have started at this, had he been in control of his limbs. As it was, though, he could do nothing but let her continue, hoping she had a good explanation for this.

After a few moments, they stopped. He felt a strange crawling sensation all across his body as his sister twisted and reformed, sliding off of him like an overcoat and reconstituting herself beside him. Alex had to shield his eyes as she withdrew from across his face, exposing his eyes to the light once more. It stung, but it was at least better than being blind.

As his vision cleared, he realised that they were now inside a military warehouse. This one seemed to be devoid of life. He noted the irony in that they had probably abandoned the place searching for Dana and himself.

Which brought him back to the million-dollar question. He turned to Dana, who now had all of her body parts in their correct places once again.

"Care to explain why that was necessary?" He folded his arms, wondering what kind of situation could possibly justify an impromptu puppetry act with his unconscious form. Dana, for her part, leaned up against a nearby crate.

"Things got ugly, fast," she said, her mind obviously occupied by other matters. "I was just trying to keep us out of the spotlight, when all of a sudden the base lights up like a Christmas tree. Alarms going off everywhere, soldiers all scrambling to evacuate." Alex raised a quizzical eyebrow at this.

"You sure they weren't just taking safety measures for dealing with us? I mean, we did catch them with their pants down." Dana shook her head, before continuing.

"You of all people should know, Blackwatch doesn't believe in keeping people alive. If it were us they were reacting to, they'd have tried to find us instead of evacuating. Whatever happened in there was enough to have them running scared." Alex nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

"Right," she said, getting on topic. "Anyway, I figured anything that made Blackwatch run for the hills was worth investigating." Alex tilted his head quizzically.

"This still doesn't explain why commandeering me was a good idea," he said. Dana threw up her arms.

"It was a short-notice plan, alright? I couldn't leave you there, serious shit was going down, and I think Blackwatch would have noticed if some ordinary soldier had strolled by carrying Anticitizen One!" She sighed a little. "Believe me, if I had the choice, controlling you from the perspective of a skin-suit in the shape of a soldier would not be how I would spend my time." Alex pondered this for a moment. As excessive as it seemed, he had to admit that he probably wouldn't have been able to come up with anything better.

"So, where to from here?" he asked her, tentatively. Dana looked thoughtful as she considered her options.

"Well, there are a few things. Firstly, I think we should figure out what's going on with the evac. We're running blind here, and it's be nice to know why a bunch of crazy fascists decided to cut and run." Alex nodded, mulling it over himself. It was at that point that the warning message rang out once again. Dana noted, with a little costernation, that in the switch over to a looped track, the message had been altered slightly. It still had the same general gist, but she would have thought Blackwatch would be less slovenly in their radio reports.

"Code Black. Code Black. Operation: Armageddon is now in effect. PARIAH has been released. Repeat, PARIAH has been released." Dana took little notice of this, until she saw the look on her brother's face.

Alex stood there, his face frozen in a look that Dana had never seen before. His face was white as chalk-to an even greater extent than usual-and his jaw hung slightly agape. His eyes were wide, with his pupils instinctively contracted to mere specks. She also noted, concerned, that his hands were beginning to shake.

She had seen Alex angry. She had seen him shocked. She had even-rarely-seen him smile. But this was new. This was an expression she had never seen on him before.

Dread. Sheer, abject, dread.

"Dana," he said, his voice coming much faster than usual. "We need to leave. Now." Dana raised her eyebrows at this.

"Are you kidding me, Alex?" she asked, disbelievingly. They had come this far, and he was going to give up now? The very idea seemed ridiculous. "What's gotten into you?" Alex, for his part, just shook his head.

"You don't know what PARIAH is," he said, beads of sweat slowly appearing on his forehead. "I barely know anything myself, but it's all bad." Dana folded her arms.

"Well, you'd better educate me then, because I'm not leaving without a damn good reason." Alex balled his fists slightly, then forced himself to relax. Dana had always gotten stubborn when she put effort into things. In other times, it would be endearing, but here, it was likely to get them killed. Alex took a deep breath before beginning his explanation.

"PARIAH...it's Greene's son. They took him from her after Hope was firebombed. The last I heard, he was in California, but obviously, that's changed over the years." Alex leaned up against a nearby decommisioned tank. "The virus that Gentek had me making...the one we're infected with...it was designed to do artificially what PARIAH's virus does naturally." Dana raised an eyebrow.

"I...see," she said, her arms still folded in front of her. "And that means for us?"

"Remember Greene?" Alex asked rhetorically. Dana's brow furrowed.

"No, I'd forgotten her since one of her Leader hunters dragged me off screaming. What do you think?" Alex didn't answer that, but instead continued with his explanation.

"Greene was an imperfect release of the non-coded sections of the human genome. The Blacklight virus was created to artificially create a perfect release. PARIAH...he already is." Dana's eyebrows raised at this.

"So, what, he's like us, but better?" Alex shook his head.

"The genome's a complicated thing. He could have powers like us, or they could be totally different." At this, Alex stepped away from the tank. "The only thing we know for sure, though, is that they would be incredibly powerful. Which is why we have to get the fuck out of here." He had expected Dana to go along with this. Instead, she stood firmer than ever, a determined look in her eye.

"And what if Wilson gets down there?" she asked. Alex shrugged.

"He's on our level. PARIAH should be able to deal with him."

"And what if you're wrong?" Alex opened his mouth, then closed it again. Before he could come up with a counterargument, Dana followed up on her reasoning.

"I'd rather take the risk of PARIAH being hostile than have him fall into the hands of someone who actually is." With that, Dana walked over to a large blast door. "The guys I consumed knew the layout of the base We just need to get down there and...oh shit."

Dana had begun opening the door as she spoke, and as it reached the top, the reason for her curse became plain to see. Corpses lay strewn and bloody across the floor. Thick tendrils stretched across the walls and ceiling, pulsing with life as biomass flowed along them, in a manner reminiscient of the Red Zones back in Manhattan. These tendrils, however, were not red like Greene's. Nor were they streaked in any way, like Dana, Alex or Wilson's. These tentacles were jet black, almost blocking out the light in the dimly-lit corridor. Alex and Dana surveyed the scene in horror. Before either of them could speak, however, a voice , softer than a breath of wind, passed into their minds.

_"...help...me..."_

**Author's Postscript: By the way, if you actually came back to continue reading this after two years, then you officially have my amazed gratitude. Like, seriously, wow. Wow.**


	10. An Abomination's Reflection

**The Prodigal Author Returns: Hey again, everyone. We're not far from the end here, and I've loosely planned the story out from here on out. With a bit of luck, it should be smooth sailing from here on out.**

* * *

Dana and Alex looked at each other, neither one certain of what they just heard.

"Help me?" Dana said, disbelievingly. "Did you hear that?" Alex looked solemn.

"I heard it. That's not important, though." He scanned the corridor for any signs of life. "The question is, who said it?" Dana surveyed the black mass uneasily before nudging it with her foot.

"What is this stuff, anyway?" she asked. While it did resemble the Redlight virus-at least, superficially-there was no way of telling how it would behave. Especially in reaction to them. Alex frowned. His eyes began to shift and reshape as he switched into Infected vision.

"We may as well look over it before we-AAAAAAH!" As soon as the eyes came into focus, Alex recoiled, slamming his hands over his eyes. Dana jumped at this, and went to look at his face to try and ascertain the problem. She noted, with some shock, that blood was actually pouring from his eyes.

"TOO BRIGHT!"

Alex may have, in a different situation, phrased it more eloquently, but he was currently in too much pain to do so. He immediately shifted his eyes out of the Infected range, before turning to Dana.

"That stuff...it's like a beacon," he explained, wiping the blood from his face. "Whatever it is, it's packed to bursting with whatever PARIAH has." Dana looked uncertain.

"Is it safe? I mean, it looks like regular biomass, but from what you've told me, you can't be too sure with this guy." Alex pondered for a moment.

"One way to find out," he said, before drawing his foot back and giving the black tendrils a powerful kick.

The mass seemed to convulse as Alex's foot made contact with it, but it didn't stop him from tearing a large chunk out of it. As soon as it had been removed, however, the rest of the biomass filled in the gap. Within a second, it was almost impossible to distinguish from the rest of it.

"Right," Alex said, thinking. "Seems like we can't destroy it by physical means." Dana nodded.

"And, judging by that little episode a few moments ago, no Infected vision." She mulled it over for a few seconds, before coming to a conclusion. "Apart from that, though, it seems safe enough. We've wasted enough time here, anyway." Dana stepped onto the biomass and, while it made a soft squishing noise under her feet, it seemed relatively benign. She beckoned for Alex to follow her.

"Come on, we haven't got too much time." The two of them began walking down the corridor, mindful of any potential threats that could have shown up.

As they walked, however, Alex grew more and more uneasy, but he couldn't seem to figure out why. Even though nothing had attacked them, or even affected them in any way, Alex felt even more put-off than he had in the Red Zones back in Manhattan. It wasn't due to feeling threatened, however. As he surveyed the black masses that covered the walls, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was...wrong about it. It wasn't until a few minutes later, when he looked into a laboratory off to one side of the corridor, that he realised why.

Inside the laboratory, there was a scientist, slowly being dragged into the black moss that covered the room. The man was dead-Alex could easily see it. Alex watched as small tentacles spewed forth from the mottled carpet of biomass, breaking down the man's body before his eyes. They reminded him of himself, and of the countless people he had consumed.

And it was in that moment that he realised what had set him on edge. While Alex had been in Manhattan, there had been countless whispers in his mind. The final thoughts of thousands of people, as they were absorbed into Elizabeth Greene's hive mind. Ever since Alex had tapped into their consciousness, he had heard all of them, barely audible, but always there. Always alive.

Here, though, it was different. There was nothing but silence. Looking at the scientist's corpse had made Alex realise-everyone in Fort Detrick that had felt PARIAH's touch had felt the touch of death. They weren't infected, changed into something else, joined into a hive mind, as had happened in Manhattan, but completely, irrevocably dead. Alex realised now that he had only ever seen one other case of a virus completely destroying its victims in such a way.

It was after the real Doctor Alex Mercer had smashed a certain vial on the ground in Penn Station.

This was the true reason for Alex's misgivings-this virus didn't pulse with life, like Greene's REDLIGHT. It wasn't meant to grow, or to spread. It was only meant to kill, and consume. It was the final resting place of a thousand people, and it was like Alex was staring into a mirror.

"We have met the enemy, and he is us," Alex whispered, under his breath. Dana, for her part, was busy looking out for threats, and couldn't quite make out the phrase itself.

"What was that?" she asked, her eyes still darting back and forth along the corridor. Alex involuntarily waved her aside.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Alex was lost in his own thoughts, for the most part. He walked up and placed his hand on Dana's shoulder.

"This stuff...I don't think we have to worry about being attacked by it." Dana raised an eyebrow as she turned to face her brother.

"A few moments ago, you were shitting yourself over this guy," she said, skeptically. "Now you're saying everything's fine?" Alex waved his hand dismissively.

"It's...hard to explain." He thought for a moment. "You ever been in a morgue?" Dana's other eyebrow raised at this; it was not a question she'd been expecting. She didn't respond, but instead let Alex continue.

"It's like...you're creeped out, but you don't feel threatened. Because there's nothing alive to hurt you." Dana cocked her head to one side.

"You're not making sense," she said, pointing at him. She then shrugged her shoulders, but then, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Quiet," she said simply. "Can you hear that?" As Alex began to pay attention as well, he realised that he could indeed hear something. It was the same voice as earlier-although this time, he could make out the voice, as well as exactly what it was saying.

_"Please, someone help me...I never wanted this...Is anyone there? Please, this is all wrong...I'm scared..."_

Dana looked thoughful at this. The words they had heard had been spoken in the voice of a child, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

"Looks like your WMD is a little more complex than anyone makes him out to be." Alex crossed his arms.

"Whatever the case, he's killed at least a thousand people already. We can't let him fall into the wrong hands." Dana shrugged at this.

"Well, whatever. There's an elevator just down the hallway we can use."Alex nodded, and followed her to a set of steel blast doors. Dana tapped the button once, then impatiently began to hammer on it repeatedly.

"Stupid thing. Look, once we get down to PARIAH's level, maybe you can explain your-" Dana's sentence trailed off into nothing as the door to the elevator opened, and they were both greeted by a by-now very familiar blonde-haired man.

All three of them were speechless for a moment. The sheer unexpected nature of the situation had caught all of them off-guard. After the moment had passed, Wilson shouted something that Alex couldn't quite make out, before transforming one of his hands into a claw and slicing a hole in the elevator below him. As abruptly as he arrived, he fell through the floor of the elevator and disappeared into the abyss below. Alex and Dana just stood there for a moment.

"Did you get what he said?" Alex asked. Dana was still staring at the hole.

"It sounded like 'Nope'," she said, her mind still processing what had happened. Their thoughts, however, were cut off, as the voice came into their minds once again. This time, however, it sounded panicked.

_"__Who are you? ...No, stay back! ...Please! NO!"_

* * *

**Author's Seemingly-Philosophical Statement: It's not the end of the story...but you can see it from here.**


	11. A Meeting of Gods

**A/N: So I've posted a couple of chapters in the past few weeks. Equating this to what has come before, this means that I've done roughly a year's work by now. God, I'm lazy.**

* * *

As soon as the voice started, it was cut off once again. The corridor was dead silent once more. Alex felt the colour drain out of his face.

"If he's consumed PARIAH..." His voice trailed off into nothing. Director McMullen had once said that it would be "extraordinarily bad" if he and PARIAH were ever to meet face to face. The thought of him fighting a mentally-unhinged man with PARIAH's powers was not something he wanted to contemplate. His train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt, however, as Dana dove headlong into the rough hole that Wilson had left behind.

"Dana!" he shouted, in a mixture of both anger and concern. Of all the times for her sister to rush headlong into things, why did it have to be then? It took a special kind of thickhead to march steadily into a very likely death, and Dana just so happened to be that thickhead.

Which, by extension, meant that he was as well. With a look of resignation, Alex leapt into the hole to follow his sister.

When he got down there, Dana had already rushed off, but luckily for him, the corridor leading to PARIAH's room was completely linear. As Alex ran through the corridor, he noticed that the virus was much more enhanced here. Whereas on the upper levels, it had taken the form of a rapidly-expanding moss, here thick tendrils pumped biomass along the hallway, feeding that which was growing upstairs. Eventually, though, Alex rounded a corner, and nearly barreled straight into his sister.

Dana was standing stock-still, a look of concentration on her face. Alex didn't even need to ask-his sister's affinity with the Infected hive-mind far surpassed his own. He simply remained quiet and listened in. What he heard was something he had most definitely not expected. It wasn't PARIAH whose voice rang out through the hive mind. It wasn't Wilson either.

This voice was someone he had never heard before.

_"__No, don't let him-Dave, you have to stop this! He'll ruin everything!"_ The voice seemed to become more and more panicked with each second. _"David, please! He's going to-AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"_ The voice shrieked in agony for almost five seconds, before abruptly falling silent. Alex and Dana stood speechless.

"It looks like...we found the one helping Wilson," Dana said slowly. Alex nodded, thinking.

"He's kept himself hidden up until this point. Guess it was too much for him to handle." Dana still looked concerned, however. The hallway in front of them seemed to stretch on forever, the black tendrils blocking out most of the light within it.

"PARIAH's cell is at the end of the hall. We need to finish this." Alex nodded again, and the two of them sprinted off in step down the hallway.

Eventually, they arrived at the blackened room at the end of the hallway. The door was now jammed open by the tentacles-it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to close it again. The room itself was covered in these tendrils, from floor to ceiling, apart from one single spotlight. And under this spotlight, in the very centre of the room, was a small boy.

On the outside, he seemed ordinary. He had a short crop of brown hair, and his skin tone was ordinary, if a little pale. By appearances, he seemed to be a healthy six-year-old boy.

Of course, that couldn't have been further than the truth. The main clue as to his identity was a jumpsuit he wore-not dissimilar to that worn by his mother. The suit had IV ports, to allow extraction of blood from all relevant points, and it clung tightly to his body. One peculiar fact, however, was that while Elizabeth Greene's outfit hadn't had any gloves, this outfit looked like it once had-but they had been torn off.

The child himself sat directly in the middle of the spotlight. He was hunched over himself, looking as if he had just come out of a bitter cold. Shadows covered his face, as he stared downwards into his lap, and he clung to himself, as if searching for comfort.

This was PARIAH.

Alex stood cautiously, his muscles tensed, and prepared for a fight. For all he knew, this could easily have been Wilson, taking the form of this child. His thoughts were interrupted once again-as, he noted wryly, had now become a frequent occurrence-by the voice of the child resounding in his head.

_"Are you here to kill me?"_ The child never opened his mouth, but he did look up at Alex and Dana, revealing a pair of blue-grey eyes. Alex was slightly taken aback by the child's directness, but he held his ground, just the same.

"That depends on you," Alex said suspiciously. "Are you PARIAH, or Wilson?" The boy barely took notice of Alex's question, his eyes instead resting on Dana.

_"You're pretty,"_ PARIAH said, simply. Dana started at this-she had no idea how to respond.

"I...Thanks, I guess..." She felt rather put off by this.

_"Sister...Is that what she is?" _he asked, his eyes resting back on Alex. _"Our sister?"_ Dana bristled a little at this. Before Alex could answer, she cut him off.

"What do you mean, 'our' sister?" PARIAH seemed to chuckle a little at this.

_"You're his sister, aren't you? But you came from my mother, which means you're my sister, too."_ Alex folded his arms-he had a few questions himself.

"How exactly do you know all this?" he asked. PARIAH's smile turned to a contemplative look.

"_How do I say this...?" _He spent a few seconds trying to put the correct words together. _"I can...hear you __talking__. In my head. You were too quiet before. Now I can hear you."_ Alex's eyebrows went up at this. PARIAH's connection to the hive mind was strong enough for him to read people's memories. While he was contemplating this, PARIAH continued.

_"There was another one, not long ago. Like you." _Dana could see that Alex's mind was otherwise preoccupied, and responded in his stead.

"He wore a blue shirt, right? Can you tell me about him?" PARIAH nodded.

_"I liked him. He was nice to me." _PARIAH's face darkened, however, as he continued. _"There was another one, though. Inside him. I didn't like him."_ There was a clear scowl on the boy's face now.

_"He was too bossy. He was always talking. He made the other one listen to him, when other people were trying to talk."_ Alex's eyes widened at this-it was clear that Wilson's aide was far more than he seemed.

"What did you do to him?" PARIAH's expression cleared a little at this.

_"He wouldn't let the other one listen. So I made him be quiet, so the other people could have their turn."_ Alex thought this over-he could see the truth behind PARIAH's cryptic statements.

"And what did the first one do?" Alex asked. PARIAH smiled at him.

_"He listened. I don't think he liked it, but he listened to them. They spoke to him for a long ti__me, and I think he paid attention, because he was quiet for a while afterwards."_

Alex thought about this for a while. In his experience, what PARIAH was saying was impossible. The people he had consumed were nothing but memories-they couldn't communicate with him like he could with Dana. Before he could voice this objection, Dana cut across him.

"How could they talk to him?" she asked, thinking along the same lines as Alex. PARIAH's face contorted with thought once again.

_"Well...he didn't speak with them. They talked to each other, or they talked to themselves, and he listened to them. And I think they said something about him. Something important."_ Alex nodded, comprehending what PARIAH was saying.

_"They're dead, aren't they?"_ PARIAH asked, his face suddenly growing forlorn. _"Like that time the soldier grabbed me. I heard him talk for a few seconds-and then he died."_ Alex nodded sadly.

_"The people outside are dead, too." _PARIAH's face moved from sadness to regret. "_The man in the blue shirt told me."_ And then, Alex saw something he didn't expect: a tear. PARIAH was crying.

_"I didn't want it to be like that-I just wanted to get out. Now they're all dead." _PARIAH wiped his face with the back of one hand. Alex couldn't help but pity the child-it was one thing to kill someone with intent, but another entirely to do it without meaning to. Beside himself, Alex heard a small sniffle. He looked over, and saw Dana with her head down. She was obviously close to tears herself.

Alex forced himself to shrug off the melancholy, enough to ask one more question.

"PARIAH...the man in the blue shirt...where did he go?" At this, Pariah looked up at Alex, and managed to stifle the tears long enough to speak. The answer, however, didn't come from PARIAH, but echoed from around the room.

"He never left."Alex and Dana immediately tensed up, searching for the source of the voice. It was a voice they had heard many times before, but it sounded slightly different now. Before, it had sounded venomous, spiteful. Now...it sounded weary.

"The mother brings life, and the child brings death," the voice continued. "It's quite poetic, really." Then, from behind the shadows, as if from nowhere, a very familiar figure stepped out. But he was different this time. The psychotic smirk he usually wore was gone from his face. All trace of humour had left his voice. In fact, the only emotion Alex could detect, as slim as it was...was remorse. Wilson looked solemnly at the Mercer siblings, who were already getting ready for a fight. Then, he said something neither of them could have predicted.

"We need to talk."

* * *

**A/N A-gain: Yes, I am aware that PARIAH is actually 40-something. Thing is, though, when you've been raised for all of your life in a research lab by people who see you as a "thing" rather than a person, the way you act tends to be a little out of touch with the norm. There's also the fact that nobody ever bothered to tell him anything about his powers, so he has no idea about the extent of them. I tried to get that across in this chapter and the following couple, but I might have made it too subtle.**


	12. Destructive Differences

SEVERAL MINUTES EARLIER

The concrete crumbled under the strain as Wilson's feet made contact with it. He knew that he had to hurry; the Mercers would be hot on his tail, and he didn't need any distractions from the plan. He quickly surveyed the tendrils around him.

_"It's spreading quickly,"_ ARES said thoughtfully. _"Good. It means we'll have all the more biomass at our disposal."_ Wilson smiled at this. It was ARES who had proposed the plan initially, after Wilson had had his episode in the Director's office. Wilson had planned to unleash PARIAH at first, and just let him wreak devastation across the city, but ARES had convinced him otherwise. It would be better-far better-for him to take in the biomass for himself, and use it to his advantage.

The very thought of how it would feel to absorb that much at once sent shivers down Wilson's spine. It was almost enough to make him forget about everything else, and just focus on consuming as many people as possible. His grin intensified, as he began to wonder just how far he could spread the virus with PARIAH's powers.

_"...__m__...__c__er..."_

The voice came into his head, as quiet as a whisper, but it's presence was enough to startle Wilson significantly.

"ARES?" he said cautiously. "Was that you?"

_"What are you talking about, Dave?" _ARES sounded legitimately confused.

"That...never mind. Let's just get on with this." Wilson sprinted down the corridor. The Mercers would be hot on his trail, after all, and it wouldn't do to have them interrupting him.

Strange. As Wilson thought more about the mysterious voice, he came to realise that, in his anticipation, he had nearly forgotten about the Mercers entirely. Wilson wasn't exactly sure what the voice had said, but he had bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

Namely, PARIAH.

Wilson quickly rounded the corner, and took a minute to survey the final stretch. As he waited, however, is mind was hit by a sound he hadn't heard in quite some time.

The sound of a child crying.

_"Please...I didn't mean it...please, wake up...I'm scared..."_ Wilson didn't know why, but hearing this voice made him uncomfortable. It wasn't a feeling that he liked. Before he could do anything, however, ARES cut across him.

_"Well, hurry up and get in there then. It's getting a little crowded in here." _ Wilson nodded and sprinted down the corridor, leading up to the door to PARIAH's cell. The airlock was unsealed, as a result of Wilson's tampering, and the doors had already been pushed open by PARIAH's tentacles. Eager to begin, Wilson began to morph one of his arms into a passable imitation of Alex's blade, and levered the door the rest of the way open.

The grin returned to Wilson's face as he saw PARIAH sitting in the centre of the room. It would take one moment, one smooth movement, to cleft the child's head from his shoulder. After that, he would consume this so-called "perfect release", and use his powers to...

_"...Mercer..."_

...He would-what had Wilson been thinking about, again? He paused for a moment in confusion. As soon as he'd started thinking about his future plans, the voice from before had swept in and knocked his train of thought clean off the rails. As he stood there, pondering, PARIAH finally took notice of him.

_"Who are you?" _he asked, confused. The question set Wilson's mind back on track. PARIAH had always been a quiet child, and it had confused Blackwatch's researchers to no end. Now, Wilson finally had an answer that explained his refusal to speak-about half-an-hour too late. Smiling at the unfortunate concidence of the situation, Wilson began to walk towards PARIAH, his new blade stretched out to the side and ready to strike.

_"No...Stay back!" _PARIAH sounded panicked at this point-an emotion that had not fazed Wilson back in his Blackwatch days. He descended further towards the child, his smile widening into a psychotic grin.

_"Please!"_ The child's eyes widened, as Wilson put his blade under his throat. The next sequence of events happened very quickly.

_"NO!"_ PARIAH's voice echoed through Wilson's head, and he had just enough time to see the virulent child's eyes glowing before a sudden blast of pain shot through his head. Wilson let out a startled cry, involuntarily forcing himself back several meters. He looked on, shocked, as his blade deformed into a mass of tentacles, before shifting back into a normal hand, completely against his will. Still shaking from the suddenness of it all, Wilson's gaze whipped back over to PARIAH.

_"...I don't want to hurt you..."_ Wilson's brow furrowed, not comprehending.

"Wait, wait. YOU don't want to hurt ME?" PARIAH nodded at him.

_"The others...The door opened, and then...I don't know." _Wilson scratched his head, slightly bewildered at the situation.

"You mean, the ones you killed?" As soon as Wilson said that, he could almost see the colour drain from PARIAH's face.

_"They're...dead? Oh, no..."_ Wilson raised his eyebrows as PARIAH sunk his head into his hands. He had been expecting him to be obsessed with spreading the virus, like Elizabeth Greene-or at least to feel a detachment from killing, like Alex Mercer. Compassion for human life was not something that he was expecting from the child.

There was also the fact that he hadn't reacted at all to Wilson's blade. It was as if the child had no concept of self-preservation or danger.

_"...Um, excuse me?" _Wilson's attention refocussed on the boy in front of him. _"Do you...kill people?" _Wilson was slightly taken aback by the question, despite the fact that the answer was pretty obvious.

"...Yeah," Wilson said. "Yeah, I do." PARIAH, at this point, was the one surprised.

"_Oh," _he said quietly. He then paused for a moment. _"...Why?"_ Wilson was again taken aback by the directness of the question.

"Because it makes me stronger," he responded. PARIAH cocked his head to one side.

_"Is it worth it, though?"_

Wilson had to admit, this kid had a knack for asking penetrating questions. Wilson took a few seconds to answer.

"...Yeah, it is." PARIAH didn't let up, however.

_"How?"_ Wilson opened his mouth, then closed it again. The truth was, he hadn't really considered why he was killing all of these people. In the beginning, it was to kill the Mercers-but then Blackwatch had betrayed him. Now...it was to spread the virus. Was that really something Wilson wanted to do? He'd dedicated a large part of his life to stopping the virus wherever it had occurred.

The more Wilson thought about his actions, the less sense they seemed to make. Was it worth dooming the world to commit vengeance on Blackwatch? No, surely it had to be. It had all made sense a few minutes ago, surely there was a good reason to be spreading the virus...

_"...Mercer..."_

_"Hey, Dave?" _ARES said, interrupting Wilson's thoughts once again._ "Not to interrupt anything, but we have an important plan to follow. Would you mind?"_ Wilson stood up at this, and began to walk towards PARIAH. The child's attention was dulled, due to the guilt he felt, and he barely noticed Wilson's presence now. Slowly, Wilson reached out toward the grief-stricken boy.

_"Yes..."_ ARES hissed. _"It's all falling into place-wait, what?"_ As Wilson reached towards PARIAH, instead of going for a vital point, he took hold of the child's arm.

_"Dave, what are you doing?!"_ Wilson ignored him, instead taking a hunk of PARIAH's lower sleeve in his hand. PARIAH looked up at Wilson, panicked once again.

"_No!_" he shouted, trying to pull away from Wilson's grip._ "I told you, I don't want to hurt you!"_ Wilson, however, was set on his task. Taking the piece of sleeve he had, Wilson tore off PARIAH's glove, before talking hold of his hand.

"Look." PARIAH's breathing slowed, as he realised that Wilson was completely unaffected.

_"Who are you?" _he said, confused. A touch of a smile showed on the older man's face.

"Call me a friend." The moment, however, was ruined by a certain voice cutting across him.

_"David," _ARES growled. _"I'm warning you. __My__ plan has come too far for you to ruin it now."_ At this, Wilson's voice lowered, as well as his eyebrows.

"Your plan, is it?" he said, his voice matching that of the one in his head. "Then maybe you can answer the question: Why is this worth it?" Wilson could hear ARES growling in his mind.

"_Wilson," _he said, his voice more dangerous than ever. _"Don't you dare say no to me." _Just then, they heard a voice that neither of them were expecting.

"Back off."

Wilson turned to look at PARIAH, who now had his eyebrows lowered. He was clearly not happy.

"What do you mean, 'back off'?" PARIAH shook his head.

_"Not you, the other one. In your head." _Wilson's eyes widened.

_"You can...hear me?" _ARES said, shocked. PARIAH nodded slowly.

"_I don't like you," _he said, his glower intensifying. _"You're too bossy. All you've done is tell him to do things that you want him to do, and you won't let anyone else have a turn talking." _Wilson's brow furrowed at this last part.

"What do you mean, 'anyone else'?", he asked. PARIAH's expression lightened a little.

_"Can't you hear them?" _he asked, looking a little confused. _"There's a whole bunch of other people who want to talk to you, and he won't let them." _Wilson was suddenly reminded of all the times he had consumed people. Every time, ARES had blocked out their memories. As he thought about it, Wilson grew more and more suspicious.

"Care to explain this?" he asked, though he wasn't really looking for an answer. ARES was silent, but that didn't faze Wilson. He had already seen enough to know that ARES wasn't trustworthy. At this point, there was only one other question on his mind. The question he'd been wondering since the very beginning.

"Who are you?" Wilson asked simply. This question, ARES did answer, though in a forced placative tone.

"Dave, please, it's not impor-" At this point, Wilson cut across him, his voice low and dangerous once more.

"Don't give me that 'not important' crap. You're clearly hiding something." At this point, Wilson stood up, his hands clenched into fists.

"It's not a hard question," he said. His voice was dissonantly tranquil. Only his now-white fists and clenched jaw belied his true feelings. "I'm tired of blindly doing what you tell me to do. I'm not budging another inch until you TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!" Wilson's shout came suddenly, startling the child who now sat behind him. ARES, for his part, just chuckled.

_"Look at you, thinking you hold the cards. Answer me this: What do you think you'll do if I don't tell you?"_ Wilson went to say something, but ARES cut him off. _"I have more power over you than you realise, Wilson. If you keep defying me...Well, let's just say it won't end well."_ Wilson snarled at this.

"TELL ME!" he shouted, his face twisted with rage. All of Wilson's composure was gone at this point-he may as well have been shouting at a brick wall, and it angered him to no end. ARES just laughed at him. The laugh continued for several seconds, and eerily echoed Wilson's own. However, he was interrupted halfway through, by PARIAH's voice, echoing through Wilson's head.

_"I can show you."_

Wilson spun around and looked at PARIAH, his eyes wide. He had almost forgotten about the child's presence.

"What did you say?" PARIAH slowly stood up.

_"He's stopping everyone else from talking. I...think I can make him quiet." _Wilson cocked an eyebrow at this.

"How do you know that?" PARIAH shrugged his shoulders.

"When the others...died...I could hear them. They were loud. It...hurt. So I made them quiet."

Wilson thought it over. PARIAH had offered him a way of finding out the truth behind everything. He would be mad to pass up an opportunity like that. While he was thinking, PARIAH added an afterthought.

_"It hurt me...when they all spoke. When he's quiet, they'll all be speaking at once. Are you sure about this?"_ Wilson gave it a little more thought, before nodding.

"This is my chance. Probably my only chance. Do it."

* * *

**Do I really need this many author's notes: Yeah, the split between Wilson and ARES was coming. Tried to hint at it as much as I could, even though I wrote myself into a corner in the beginning. God, I sucked back then. Hell, compared to serious authors, I still do.**


	13. Unexpected Developments

**This Author's Note Might Be Necessary: Me again, and a little early this time. Now, with these next two chapters, they originally started out as one chapter. However, as I ran double the word length I tend to set myself for chapters, I made the decision to split the uber-chapter into two rough halves. But then, because it was all originally written as one chapter, it came out as strange when I tried to imagine them with a gap between them. So, you guys get a double-feature this week.  
**

**Lucky you.**

* * *

It was at this point that ARES' voice echoed through Wilson's mind once more.

"_NO!" _The voice had lost much of its weight by this point, however-ARES had shown his hand far too early, and he knew it. _"Dave, please, I-"_ Before he could continue, however, Wilson cut him off.

"It's too late for that, ARES," he snapped. "You had your chance to tell me the truth, and you didn't take it. So I'm gonna force it out of you." Wilson turned to the boy standing next to him.

"Do it." PARIAH nodded, and reached his hand out toward Wilson's face. His eyes began to glow slightly. It was at this point that PARIAH opened his mouth, and spoke the first word that Wilson had yet heard from him.

_"Listen..."_ ARES' voice came into Wilson's head once again, though far more panicked than usual.

_"No, don't let him-Dave, you have to stop this! He'll ruin everything!"_ Wilson began to lower his face towards PARIAH's hand.

"I don't care!" he snarled. ARES' voice came much faster now, and more high-pitched with every moment.

_"David, please! He's going to-"_ It was at this point that PARIAH's hand came into contact with Wilson's face. Wilson jerked back suddenly as his entire world became a dizzying whirlwind of flashing images and excruciating pain. He became aware, after a moment, of ARES' voice screaming within his head-followed shortly by the realisation that he was screaming as well. The pain was raw-it was unlike anything Wilson had ever experienced before. It filled his mind, drowning out any conscious thought or sensory perception.

Wilson couldn't handle it. His vision turned to black. His hearing was cut to silence. Had he been aware, he would have realised he was falling. His mind no longer processed anything.

Instead, it listened. Thousands of images, the voices of hundreds, flashed through his head. Those he had consumed on his own, and those he had stolen from Alex and Dana Mercer. And he could hear all of them. Wilson's body collapsed, slowly, to the ground, as his mind ran through each memory. Storing. Cataloguing.

Remembering.

_"Man, of all the missions we coulda been sent on, we get saddled with babysitting the fucking MERCER?"_  
_"Keep it calm, soldier. With any luck, we'll all be able to go home after this."_  
_"...I still don't like it. And what's with that name they gave him? Fucking God of War up in this shit!"_  
_"Names aren't important, Lieutenant. Now saddle up-looks like he's on his way out."_

_"You called about PARIAH, correct? What are your findings?"_  
_"Sir, PARIAH has exhibited a strange ability. It's a form of forced empathy-essentially, he can make other people share the emotions that he's feeling."_  
_"I...see. And how is this important to us?"_  
_"Sir, Blackwatch's tenets are based entirely on emotional detachment. If he starts influencing our men, he could do a lot of damage."_  
_"...Troubling. Is it likely to become a threat?"_  
_"That's the good news, sir. This ability appears to be entirely subconscious-he doesn't seem to be capable of weaponising it."_  
_"Well, that's good, at any rate. On that note, has the ARMAGEDDON project been completed?"_  
_"Yes, sir. Should PARIAH break out for whatever reason, we'll have twenty minutes to get out the city."_  
_"Do we have a damage estimate?"_  
_"It'll level the entire city, sir. Beyond that, our most recent estimates place the killbox at around 5 miles from the outskirts. Casualty report is at around 70,000-well within acceptable parameters."_  
_"That's a bit close to Washington, isn't it?"_  
_"With respect, sir, the situation will be much worse if PARIAH gets out."_  
_"And you're sure ARMAGEDDON will kill it?"_  
_"Between the firebombing and the nuclear blast? I'd say if it doesn't, we might as well say goodbye to the world."_

_"Sir, I appreciate the need for determination in this choice, but Wilson is dangerous! He barely passed the psychiatric exam to get into this organisation, and, with all due respect, it's nearly impossible to fail!"_  
_"You have your job, Doctor, and I have mine. Wilson's one of the only suitable candidates we have at our disposal-and I don't want to turn to the Marines for this."_  
_"I know, sir, but his sanity-"_  
_"Is not relevant to this project. Dismissed."_  
_"...Yes, sir."_

_"Doctor, how is the project progressing?"  
"Surprisingly well, Director. We've managed managed to engineer a working version of the virus, which should be ready for deployment within the day."  
"A report I received a few days ago mentioned some 'problems' with OLYMPUS-I trust they've been ironed out?"  
"Yes, sir-it was a rogue specimen. It expanded at a far greater rate than was usual-even for a Blacklight sample."  
"I take it that...specimen was eliminated?"  
"Yes. Although...it actually appeared to shrink away from the flames in the incinerator. It was almost as if...it didn't want to die."_

_"Sir?"_  
_"...Continue the project. I want our subject infected ASAP."_

_"Yes, sir."_

_"The procedure was a resounding success, sir. Viral levels are rising rapidly throughout Wilson's body, and the infection should finish incubating overnight."_  
_"Good, good...We'll need a codename for him. One moment, I'll arrange it."_

_*__click* *click*_

_"Helen. New codename. MERCER under our command."  
"So...Greek theme...Military related..."  
"Any ideas?"_

_"Sir, the incubation period is complete within Wilson's body. By the time we fly him out to Manhattan, he should be showing signs of increased strength and durability. He won't have any of a MERCER's more...dramatic abilities, but those should develop over time."_  
_"Good. I want it on an outbound chopper within the hour. We've got a fix on the others, and I want to move on it before the trail goes cold."_  
_"Yes, sir. I'll need Wilson's callsign, to notify his squad. Have you made a decision on it, sir?"_

_"Yes. We've decided to call him...ARES."  
_  
The shock of these last words jolted Wilson's mind back into action. He was ARES? What were they talking about? How was that even possible? His mind raced, trying to make sense of everything he had just seen. It was at this point that he realised that his eyes were still closed. As he opened them, though, he realised that something wasn't right.

The darkened room he was in earlier had vanished, replaced with a black void. Slowly, Wilson stood up. He could see himself, so he knew that he wasn't blind, but there was nothing else around him. The area was strange-unnatural, even. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. As he looked around, however, a voice rang out through the void. A voice that sounded strange to Wilson's ears, but also oddly familiar.

"_And the last horse crosses the finish line."_ Wilson was taken aback by this new voice, but immediately went on-guard.

"Who is this? And you'd better not change the subject." The voice just laughed.

"_Finally, you can stay on topic for more than a second. I was starting to wonder if that was beyond you." _Wilson was agitated by this-he'd had quite enough of being insulted by voices in his head.

"Just tell me who you fucking are, already!"

_"It'd be easier to just show you," _the voice said. At this point, Wilson was blinded by a sudden flash of light in front of him. By the time his eyes recovered, a figure was standing in front of him. He looked very familiar-a blue T-shirt, black tracksuit pants, and a head of blonde hair.

Wilson was staring at himself.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUUN: And the twist comes out. Bang. Been waiting literally years for that.**

Also, in an unrelated note, my mind drifted onto the idea of Wilson speaking in Darryl Kurylo's (Alex's VA from Prototype 2) voice, and it sounded really great. So you can considering it canon for this story that Alex still has Barry Pepper's voice (Prototype VA), and Wilson speaks in Darryl Kurylo's voice.


	14. Falling Into Place

"Is this some kind of fucking joke?" Wilson asked angrily. The other figure raised his hands in a placative gesture.

"Let me explain," he said quickly. Wilson had to admit, it was good to hear a voice from which he could easily determine its origin.

"Let's just get this straight-I'm you," the voice continued. "I'm every conclusion you should have made, every thought you should have had. I'm the part of you that wanted to know ARES' angle, why he was in the Director's head." This only served to confuse Wilson further.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The other figure sighed.

"Do you remember, all those times, you would ask ARES about who he was, or get suspicious of him?" Wilson hadn't thought about it in a while, but he nodded slowly.

"Do you remember how, every time you asked, he would cut you off with a few words?" Wilson's brow furrowed-he couldn't quite recall it. The other man sighed.

"'Not important'. That's what he'd say, every time." At this point, comprehension dawned within Wilson. He remembered everything.

_"That's not important..."  
"Whatever, it's not important..."  
"Listen to me: It's not important..."_

Wilson even remembered that, at one point, he'd cut ARES off in the middle of saying it.

"Well," the man said, continuing, "it just so happens that it wasn't a coincidence." Wilson cocked an eyebrow.

"Explain?"

"Every time he said that, he was manipulating you," the other man said, folding his arms. "Every time you'd get too close, he just had to say those two words, and you'd immediately switch topics. You never even realised you were doing it, because he sealed that realisation up with it." Wilson began to think back on all of those times, and he had to admit, the man had a point. All the same, however, Wilson folded his arms, mirroring his other self's gesture.

"You'll forgive me if I find this hard to believe," he said, skeptically. He was reasonably sure that the man was telling the truth, but if he was lying to him, it would be better to bait him into showing his hand. He smiled inwardly as the other man frowned.

"Well, forgive me for trying to help, asshole," he said, somewhat offended. "I mean, it's not like I've been screaming at you the entire time, or anything." Wilson began to frown himself at this point-though it was more worried than offended.

"What do you mean by that? And how did you come to be?" The alternate Wilson sighed at this.

"I told you already: All those conclusions you should have made congealed into me. From the moment I realised that ARES was bad news, I tried to contact you. He just kept blocking me out, though." The man actually smiled at this point. "Thing is, though, when he blocked you off after you ate the Director, he gave me enough power to hijack that same controlling method he used on you." Wilson remembered now-the voice in his head on the way to PARIAH.

"So that was you saying 'Mercer', all that time." The other man nodded.

"It was a bitch to pull off, but I managed it," he said, looking rather proud. "See, thing is, I tried to get in contact with you the normal way at first, but ARES just kept blocking me." He was speaking rather quickly now. "So, I stuck a trigger phrase in your head, based on something you were already obsessed with-namely, killing the Mercers." His smile fell a little bit as he continued. "It wasn't quite enough, but I managed to break your train of thought when you started getting too into his plan. Then PARIAH showed up, and, well, all it took was a little push from there." Wilson frowned at this.

"So you manipulated me?" The other Wilson's face fell a little.

"You would have thought that way anyway, if you were sane," he said, looking a little defensive. "I just got you pointing in the right direction." Wilson thought about it, then nodded slowly.

"One last question," he said, thinking. "How did ARES manage to block out my memories? How is that even possible?" The other man sighed once again.

"The truth is...you weren't experiencing those memories directly," he said, looking uncomfortable. "You haven't experienced anything directly for the past few days." Wilson looked slightly confused at this.

"What do you mean by that? I mean, I know the virus consumes its host-that's a given. But the host normally stays in control." The repressed Wilson held up a hand here, forestalling him.

"This virus...it's not acting like it should," he said thoughtfully. "You haven't had the time to think about it, thanks to ARES, but it's too aggressive. Too controlling. It's too...important." Wilson raised an eyebrow at this.

"What do you mean by that" The man shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"You're not really in control of that body," he said, at last. "ARES has been passing everything through to you." Wilson actually took a step back in shock.

"What the hell do you mean?" He had assumed ARES to be in a supporting position-the entire situation had just been turned on its head.

"Every time you thought you were doing something, it passed through ARES first. I've been watching it happen." Wilson shook his head-it was almost too much to comprehend.

"...Any other bad news?" he asked tentatively. Wilson's other self, unfortunately, nodded.

"ARES has been getting more powerful with each kill you make. Eventually..." He paused for a moment, an uncomfortable look on his face. "...Eventually, I think he's gonna try and take over."

"Well this gets better and better," Wilson said, his eyes widening. The other man nodded.

"Yeah. Listen, we don't have much time left." Wilson was surprised by the man's sudden shift in topic.

"What?" he said quickly. "Why?"

"Simply put: the Mercers." Wilson nodded, comprehension dawning on his face. The Mercers had been after him-though he was surprised they'd taken this long to get to him. As he pondered this, another thought crossed his mind.

"What will you do, now?" he asked, tentatively. The other him considered the thought for a moment, before a look of resignation came across his face.

"I've done what I was trying to do," he said, sighing. "I'm just an aspect of you. Now, Wilson..." He walked over to the man whose face he had taken, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Consume me," he said, looking Wilson straight in the eyes. Wilson's eyes widened at this.

"But..." Before he could say and more, his doppelganger held up his hand.

"David...this void...it's my world, now," he said, sadly. "I'm just an aspect of you, like a missing limb." He put his other hand on Wilson's opposite shoulder. "Just let me back into your head, so you can finally think like a sane fucking person." Wilson looked down slightly, before his arm broke apart into a mass of tentacles and reformed into a long, smooth blade. He raised the edge to his duplicate's neck, then braced himself for the slash.

"One more thing." Wilson looked into the other man's eyes, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Promise me that, when the time comes, you'll take your body back from that fucking asshole." Wilson smiled and nodded, before slashing the blade sideways, clefting his doppelganger's head from his shoulders. As tendrils sprung from Wilson's back, dragging the body into him, he was suddenly overcome by another wave of pain. In spite of it, he could feel himself being dragged into another memory. One that he hadn't expected.

His own.

_David's back hit the wall behind him, and with the resistance came a sinking feeling unlike any he had felt before. Tears of pure, unbridled terror were streaming down his face, as the infected woman slowly advanced on him. As she ran her hand on the wall beside her, a red growth blossomed out, growing over the building, searching for something to consume._

_"Looks like your luck ran out, kid," she said, a smile growing on her face. David, with little other option, let out a whimper as he curled up, too scared to even speak. The Runner stretched her hand out, ready to add another to her ever-growing flock._

_That was when, out of nowhere, a steel bar smacked into the side of her head, sending her sprawling. The boy holding it was slightly older than David, however, he possessed the same crop of blonde hair, a look of furious determination on his face. He turned to face the Runner._

_"Dave." he said, not taking his eyes off of her, as she slowly stood up once again. "Can you run?" David stood up, as quickly as he could, the shock of the situation still disorienting him._

_"Umm...yeah, I think..." A smile touched the older boy's mouth._

_"Good." He gripped the bar more tightly as he said his next words. "Dave, I want you to run. As fast, and as far away from here as you can." David's eyes widened at this._

_"But she'll kill you!" A look of resignation crossed the other boy's face._

_"I know. Run." At this, tears began to run down David's face once again._

_"Aaron, no! Please.." Aaron Wilson turned to face his brother._

_"David, it's you or me. You being safe is more important than anything." It was at this point that the Runner stood up completely and charged at Aaron, her face filled with rage. He, for his part, gripped the bar more tightly, before swinging it hard into her head once again._

_"GO!" he shouted quickly. With tears in his eyes, David turned and ran, as fast as he could, in the opposite direction. When he reached the end of the alleyway, he turned and looked back, just once._

_It was long enough for him to see his brother's head ripped from his shoulders._

David Wilson's eyes flew open. He realised that he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling. PARIAH stood above him, looking incredibly relieved.

_"Oh, you're alright! I was...worried you would turn out like...the ones I..."_ Wilson's mind, however, was far away from his current location.

That memory...he must have repressed it. Two Bluff...the Runner...his brother. He remembered that Alex Mercer had once asked him why he was pursuing them. He'd given a generic answer, back then. But here, he realised...seeing Dana Mercer kill his squad...It had brought up unpleasant feelings in his mind.

But now that he had a reason behind his hatred, he found that he couldn't identify with it anymore. To kill two completely unrelated people, based on a tangential connection? Blackwatch would have supported it, but they had abandoned him. ARES had tried to push him into it, but he could see the truth behind his actions now. And he could easily rationalise that they had killed thousands of innocent people...but he was just as bad, now.

The truth was...any reason he could find for killing the Mercers had evaporated by this point. He was on the exact same level as them now, and...well, he had nothing left.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of footsteps running down the corridor.

The Mercers probably wouldn't be open to negotiation at first glance. He needed to get out of the way, and quickly. He knew the truth now-the whole truth-and he wasn't sure where he could go from there. He was a soldier without a cause. He needed something to give him purpose-somewhere to belong. And maybe-just maybe-the Mercers could offer it.

* * *

**The Author Rides Again: And there we have it. Hand revealed. Plot threads pretty much all wrapped up, apart from a couple of big ones, which I'll let you guys stew on for the week. We're almost at the end of the road, people. Let's make this shit count.**


End file.
